


The Epic Love Story of Wolf and Twister

by KeriArentikai



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Adorable Dogs, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Bottom!Stiles, Fluff, Help I've Started Writing And I Can't Stop, Judgmental Dogs, Lydia Says What We All Want To Say, M/M, Puppy Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeriArentikai/pseuds/KeriArentikai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a tiny adorable hyper puppy.  Derek has an awesome huge Malamute mix.  They both go to the dog park a lot.  </p><p>So, obviously, Sterek ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've officially lost my mind. I'm sorry. I will also admit I have no idea where this one is going. Can you tell I have dogs on the brain these days? One of the two dogs may actually be me just writing my own real-life dog into the story. I will leave it to you to guess whether it's Twister or Wolf. I'm sure it's actually pretty easy to figure out.

Some days Stiles was filled with warmth and love; some days Stiles wondered how this came to be his life. 

How the fuck did he end up with such a ridiculous puppy?

He remembered the events, sure. His college friends Erica and Lydia had come to visit him for the weekend and they insisted - insisted! - on going to the animal shelter. "Just to play with the puppies!" they had said.

Three days later he was signing papers and taking home the world's smallest ball of fluff. Seriously, dogs were not supposed to come in sizes this small. At nine weeks old, she could actually curl up and fall asleep in his hand. It was fucked up. Even now, at eight months old, Twister weighed less than five pounds. 

And she was a terror. Stiles was pretty sure that if he could figure out how she had so much energy on less than half a cup of kibble per day, he could solve the world's energy crisis. He got made fun of so much by his friends who said she was just like her owner - adorable and spastic. Luckily, Beacon Hills was a pretty small town, so it was easy for him to come home on his lunch hours to let her out and play with her a bit. Still, when he got home at the end of the day, Twister was so hyper he couldn't handle it. There was only one option: the dog park.

It was a nice park. The area was fenced in, although there were spots where he was pretty sure Twister could get under the fence, if she wanted. Thank heavens she wasn't an escape artist - given her monochromatic black coat and minuscule size, he'd never find her again if she didn't want to be found. He just kept an eye on her as she wandered around, occasionally playing with the other dogs, sometimes just bouncing back and forth between other dog owners.

At the beginning, Stiles had taken a book with him to the park. He had long since realized the futility of that, though, because people at the dog park always wanted to talk. Always. He had no idea what the real names of most of these people were but he knew them as 'Bilbo's owner' or 'Swarley's owner'. There was a whole dog park society, really. A core group of people that were there often, one-day-a-week folks, new people who he would probably never see again. All of them adored Twister - she would run up to each person as they entered and jump up on them - way less annoying than most dogs, since she could only reach halfway up most people's shins - until they laughed and ruffled her fur or maybe picked her up for a cuddle. She was a cuddle slut. Even with the gross guy who owned four beagles and always smelled like pee.

Everyone adored her; everyone except Wolf's owner. Wolf was awesome - he was a huge malamute mix who played rough with the big dogs and gently with the small ones and always brought balls back when people threw them for him to catch (unlike his own spoiled brat, who would carry the ball a third of the way back before she got bored.) Twist would run up to that guy with his stubble and leather jacket and his forbidding expression and jump her pathetic little heart out and he would always ignore her. Stiles thought the guy was clearly an asshole. I mean, Stiles himself was allowed to think Twist was a terrible dog - everyone else had to think she was perfect. Obviously.

And fine, maybe he was absurdly gorgeous, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. He just stood there in the corner for half an hour every afternoon, answering in monosyllables when anyone asked him a question about Wolf, and generally being surly and taciturn. Total breach of dog park etiquette.

To be fair, Stiles could see why he was a little reserved - it was kind of crazy how all the women tried to hit on him. Each one would usually take at least a week before giving up. Even Stiles knew how to take a hint better than that, and that's saying something.

But snubbing his dog was unforgivable, even if Stiles' subconscious didn't agree and regularly inserted him into his sexy dreams.

As it got colder, fewer people came to the dog park, unless it was a really sunny day. The regular crowd dwindled down to five or so people who showed up around five thirty. Stiles usually couldn't make it until almost six, and Wolf and his owner were the only other ones that stayed later, other than the beagle guy and the guy who always wanted to talk about crazy right-wing Fox News conspiracies.

The funniest thing was that Wolf and Twister were becoming best buddies. Twist wasn't a fan of playing rough, so she usually wasn't too interested in the big dogs, but Wolf always let her set the pace of play. There was something truly hysterical about seeing a ninety pound wolf-lookalike play with a five pound ball of fluff. Stiles had been filming them and uploading the videos to YouTube and they were getting tons of hits.

One afternoon, Stiles realized that when Swarley's owner left, he was going to be left alone with Beagle Guy, Fox News Guy and Sexy Stubble Guy. He contemplated leaving, but he knew that if Twister didn't get her playtime, she was going to be a pain in the ass all night. So he did the only thing he could think of - he went up to Sexy Stubble Guy.

"Hey, so, uh, pretend we're talking about something, okay?"

"What?" the man looked at him with scorn.

"Don't 'what?' me! You know exactly what. You heard him ranting about the godless Muslims last week. And you definitely know how beagle guy smells. If I don't look occupied, they're going to make me talk to them," Stiles hissed.

"You could just, you know, not talk to them," Wolf's owner replied.

"Yeah, I could be super rude and ignore all social niceties. Want to teach me? Twist! Stop rolling on that spot!" Damn it, now he was going to have to give her a bath when they got home. She was not much of a fan of baths.

"I know my dog's existence offends you, but you could help a guy out here. Have some compassion," Stiles asked again, seeing the two men approaching out of the corner of his eye.

"Her existence doesn't offend me. She's just... tiny."

"Gee, thanks, I hadn't noticed."

"I mean, does she even actually count as a dog?"

"Shut up. She's awesome. Wolf likes her, even if you don't."

Twist came running up to them then, having grown bored of exploring a very interesting patch of grass. As usual, she tried her best to get Sexy Stubble Guy's attention, to no avail.

"My god, just pet her already, will you? Your masculinity will remain intact, I promise."

"I'm very secure in my masculinity, thank you," the man replied with a haughty tone, and Stiles would have almost thought he was trying to be funny if he didn't know any better. 

"I can see that," Stiles mumbled, without really meaning to. 

The man raised an eyebrow at him, but then leaned down scratch Twister's head. She made little happy yipping noises. The man - miracle of miracles - smiled just a little bit at that. 

One of the reasons Erica and Lydia had listed as to why he should get this particular puppy is that she'd be a total babe magnet. And Stiles definitely got tons of attention from everyone when he walked her in the mornings. Unfortunately, while it worked for girls (he had even gotten a girl's number last week), Twist was a repellant for the kind of guy he was usually into - big and manly and muscular. But it looked like even that type got worn down by her charms, eventually.

When Stiles left, having successfully avoided the crazy people for another night, the man even said goodbye to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the chapters are getting shorter and crack-ier. And it's still not living up to its 'explicit' tag, but at least penises came up (ha!) in this one. 
> 
> P.S. I got a tumblr account (http://keriarentikai.tumblr.com/), since it seems like what all the kids are doing these days. You can follow me if you want, but really, I'm pretty boring so far. 
> 
> And all you people who go to dog parks regularly know those two guys I'm talking about, right? It can be a terrifying experience trying to get away from them with no convenient gorgeous Derek Hale nearby.

After that first day when Stiles imposed himself on the guy, he thawed a bit. Not much, just a little. He would nod at Stiles as he came or left and he occasionally deigned to acknowledge Twister’s existence (and she was persistent). 

Meanwhile, Wolf and Twister continued being adorable together. Stiles would throw the ball for them and, while Twister was surprisingly fast when she wanted to be and bounded like a bunny through the field, Wolf could always get the ball if he wanted. After a little while, though, Wolf actually started letting Twist tumble over the ball as she ran headlong into it and only picked it up to bring it back after she was finished being thrilled that she had followed the tennis ball all the way across the area. Sometimes Stiles wished he was a dog and had such great self-esteem.

Wolf always looked like he was smiling when he left his mouth slightly open, and Stiles would scratch his ears and tell him he was a pretty dog. One time Stiles almost thought he saw the guy smile at his absurd litany of endearments he directed at the large dog. What could he say – large male dogs deserved to be told they’re pretty and cute and precious just as much as tiny female ones.

One night the guy saw Stiles panicking as he could hear the Fox News Guy start on his latest rant about how Obama is secretly an atheist gay Muslim and, apparently in a merciful mood, sat down beside Stiles on the bench. Of course, Twist took the golden opportunity of the guy being slightly closer to the ground than usual to jump and pant for his attention. Finally the guy rolled his eyes and picked her up, letting her frolic on the bench, hopping back and forth between the two men’s laps until she decided that Wolf, rather than them, was the most interesting being on the planet and ran to join him in his investigation of a tennis ball that was too gross for Stiles to pick up. 

“So what kind of name is Twister, anyway?” he guy asked. Stiles glared. He appreciated the attempt at small talk, he really did, but this guy was impossible.

“She’s only slightly less destructive than one and the first day I brought her home she kept running in circles." Stiles was usually pretty nice to strangers, but something about this guy just nettled him. "What about Wolf? Sounds like a five year old came up with that one," he mocked.

"He was six, actually. My nephew named him."

"Oh. Well then... fair enough. Point to you."

"So why doesn't your girlfriend ever come out here?" Stubble asked him, stiffly. Although it's not like that was really a difference from his demeanor the rest of the time.

"Girlfriend? What girfriend?" Stiles was genuinely baffled.

"Wife, then?" The guy looked even more tense.

"What? Where are you getting this from? As much of a catch as I am, I happen to be single at the moment. Although not from lack of options, I will have you know. Just the other day- "

But Stubble cut Stiles off and said: "Seriously? You're a single guy and you have a 'yorkiepoo'? No girl in sight?" 

"Oh my god, just because I have a fluffball of a dog doesn't make me girly! I have a penis, okay? A genuine, honest-to-god penis! Do you need me to whip it out to prove it?" 

Belatedly, Stiles realized he was probably yelling too loudly about his genitalia. Fox News guy looked over like Stiles was the crazy one and started inching away, and Stiles decided he needed to yell about his penis more often.

When Stiles looked back over at Wolf's owner, it was just in time to catch him flicking his eyes back up to Stiles' face. And Stubbles was blushing. Actually blushing. Interesting.

"No, I believe you. No need to get arrested for public indecency on my account." It was a pretty good recovery, Stiles would give him that - he didn't even stammer or let the blush that was quickly fading affect his voice. Stiles seriously thought about making a joke about doing something that be worth getting arrested for public indecency, but no. Stiles was willing to consider that this perfect physical specimen might be interested in men, but he was definitely not going to push it. That never ended well.

"Well, good then. Penis stays in pants and you admit that Twister is an awesome dog that any muscle-bound fellow like yourself would be lucky to have."

Stubble rolled his eyes. Usually people didn't bother with names of people (rather than names of dogs) at the dog park, but his interest in this guy was piqued. 

"So, since we've already talked about my penis, I think I should tell you my name. I'm Stiles."

"Derek," he replied. But he was clearly at his limit for the day, as he followed with:

"We're going to head out now. See you around." He called Wolf who obediently ran up to him and waited patiently while Derek attached the leash to his collar - of course Wolf was perfectly behaved and trained - so Stiles started the process of catching Twister and holding her still long enough to try to get her attached to the leash. 

But leashing Twister could wait while he noticed Derek's ass as he walked away. Hmm. He had never been able to blame all the women for hitting on the guy, but he had thought it was silly of them to go after an obviously lost cause. He was not, under no circumstances, no way, no how, going to follow down the same path of folly. Not even for an ass like that. Stiles sighed wistfully and went to chase down his psychotic puppy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should really all just stop reading this. I suspect the story will be wildly inconsistent, quality-wise. So yeah, proceed at your own risk. I make no claims of this being well-plotted or well-paced at all.

As the next week went by, Derek sat next to Stiles on the bench more often. He still tended to reply to Stiles' yammering in monosyllables, but Stiles didn't mind that too much. He had kept his topics of conversation to G-rated things, dog-park appropriate things. But really, they were running out of things to talk about that didn't involve knowing a little bit more about a person than his dog training methods.

Opportunity came when a pretty girl with a corgi tried to talk to Derek. Really, she wasn't being inappropriate or throwing herself at him; she was just trying to make conversation. But Derek grunted in response to her prompts without meeting her eyes until she went away.

"Harsh, dude. Do you have a crazy jealous girlfriend who has threatened to kill any women who talk to you or something? Or do you just hate females in general? Oh my god, is that why you hate Twister?"

"Don't be an idiot," Derek snapped. But Stiles didn't take offense. Derek snapping at him was equivalent to anyone else talking to him, on a relative scale. "I don't hate Twister, I don't hate women and I don't have a girlfriend. I just don't like... talking to people."

"No, really?" Stiles was pretty sure he could have sounded more sarcastic if he tried, but it would have been a stretch. "So why do you even come here?"

"It's good for Wolf to be around other people. I want to make sure he stays well socialized."

"Oh. Well, fine. I hate it that you always have reasonable answers to my snarky questions."

"Sorry." Stiles could hear the mental "I'm not sorry" that followed Derek's 'apology'.

"I'll just leave you alone, then. I can take a hint." Stiles moved to get up from the bench - he had done the persistent thing in college (see, Lydia) and was not going down that path again.

Before he registered movement, Derek's hand jerked towards his forearm but stopped before actually making contact.

"I don't mind you," he said, as if he was unwilling to tell him. Stiles sat back down.

"Gee, what a compliment." But he actually knew it kind of was. "So, what do you do that allows you to get away with not talking to anyone all day long?"

"I'm a mechanic." Stiles had a sudden vision of Derek in a wifebeater and jeans, oil visible on his clothes and skin in tantalizing places.

"Of course you are." Because life was unfair, of course Derek had to have a sexy profession. Although, now that Stiles came to think of it, there probably wasn't any profession Derek could have said that Stiles wouldn't have immediately moved to his 'sexy' list. 

"But even mechanics usually have to talk to people sometimes," Stiles pointed out.

"My sister does all the office and customer stuff. I just work on the cars."

"Convenient," Stiles commented.

"What about you? A student?" Derek asked, as if Stiles was just supposed to nod in answer. And yes, this was a college town, but come on!

"Uh, no. I'm a software engineer," Stiles wasn't trying too hard to hide his annoyance at the question, but he must have succeeded better than he thought, since Derek continued.

"You can't be old enough to have finished school already."

"Oh my god, you think I'm a sixteen year old girl. This is seriously what is happening here. I'm thirty! Thirty with a master's degree and a job. You and all the bouncers in this town need to get a clue. At least I can offer to show you my driver's license without involving nudity into the discussion. Which I just did anyway. Whatever." Fucking lack of a beard. If he didn't look so stupid with a wispy mustache, he would totally grow some facial hair.

Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles cut him off: "And if you make a comment about the kind of dog I have again I swear to god I will... I will... get Twister to pee on your leather jacket!" It was a pretty lame threat, but he wasn't doing so well under pressure with this guy. Derek closed his mouth and Stiles huffed out a breath.

They took the moment of annoyed peace to look over at their dogs and saw Twister licking at Wolf's nose, with Wolf leaning down so she could reach. 

"Oh my god that is the cutest thing ever - why am I not getting this on video?" Stiles rushed over towards them with his camera, but of course as soon as they noticed him they ran up to play. 

When he sat back down, Stiles decided to seize the moment. 

"They're closing the park next week to reseed it - do you maybe want to meet up for a playdate?" he asked. Derek turned to him and gaped.

"Did you just ask me out on a "play date"?" The quotes around the words were palpable in Derek's speech. Stiles wasn't much of a fan of the shock and disturbance in Derek's expression. He was pretty sure that the idea of a "play date" (whatever that meant - now that he thought about it it does sound kind of dirty) with Derek sounds fun to him.

"No, you weirdo. I asked if you wanted to meet up so Wolf and Twister could play together."

"Oh." Derek considered, looking over at the pair. "Yeah, maybe that would be good."

"Let's say 6 pm in that field over there? We'll have to keep them leashed, but whatever."

"Okay." Derek stood up and moved towards the gate with Wolf. But before he went too far, Stiles added:

"Besides, I don't ask straight guys out on dates, play or otherwise." Stiles thought this was a pretty good line - introduced the thought of guys and dates together, but if Derek was going to be freaked out by that, it also made it clear that Stiles wasn't planning on pursuing him if he wasn't into guys.

Derek just grunted without looking back at him and left. Stiles sighed. So that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you guys have thoughts on whether you prefer the shorter chapters more often, or if you'd prefer that I save them up into longer chapters, let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get a chance to write in the airport as I expected to, and then I was sitting next to a child on the plane and I didn't think it was a good idea to write this then, either. Nor when my mom was sitting next to me on the sofa (yay, holidays and family. Good for the soul, bad for porn productivity). 
> 
> But here's the next chapter. For what that's worth!

When Stiles arrived at the designated spot in the park, Wolf was already chilling out off-leash. Stiles couldn’t even imagine ever letting Twister off-leash. That was just a recipe for disaster. 

As he approached, he saw Derek was holding two Starbucks cups. Derek handed him one without saying anything.

“Thanks. That’s… surprisingly nice of you,” he said.

“I can be nice,” Derek replied, sounding maybe a little affronted.

“Uh huh,” Stiles said, noncommittally. He got the chance to take a sip before Twister got tired of trying for Derek’s attention and turned to Wolf. She bolted forward with all of her five pounds of body weight to drag on the leash and, since Stiles was (stupidly) not expecting it, he actually tripped a little. Then Twister and Wolf had a joyful reunion, which involved a lot of jumping and wrestling (well, okay, Twist wrestled, Wolf allowed it). Stiles realized that there were flaws in their plan, as he was jumping around with them, trying desperately to keep the leash untangled and pretty much failing. The coffee in his other hand wasn’t helping much with the balance and spillage issues.

Derek laughed. He actually laughed. Stiles almost dropped the cup entirely when he turned towards the sound and saw a smile still on Derek’s face. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Derek?” he asked, smiling back.

“Oh, hush,” Derek shot back. “It looks like we might not have thought this one through. Are you sure you can’t let her off-leash for a bit?”

Stiles glared at him. “If she goes five feet off, I may never find her again. And she doesn’t exactly come when she’s called. Not by me, anyway – maybe if you’d promise to pay half a second of attention to her, she’d come running.”

“Fine. Well, uh, I live not too far from here, and I have a fenced yard. If it’s not too weird, you could just come over, they could play there.”

Stiles wasn’t exactly sure this was a great idea – the last thing he needed was to get to know Derek better as a person rather than as his unobtainable dog-park crush – but it definitely seemed like a better plan than either losing Twist or trying to hold on to the leash any longer. So he agreed.

Ten minutes later, they were in a nicely-kept backyard (Stiles started to imagine Derek mowing the lawn, then stopped himself before it got embarrassing). They let the dogs play for about half an hour and Derek even occasionally participated in Stiles’ chit-chat. When the dogs started to just sit and watch the ball being thrown rather than chase after it, Stiles figured it was time to leave. 

“This was good, Twist won’t be a total brat tonight after all. Well, she probably will be now that I’ve jinxed myself, but whatever.”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “Wolf really likes her.”

“Maybe we should do this again?” 

“I can’t tomorrow night, but I’m free Friday.”

“I have a work thing on Friday, I won’t be free until, like, 8:30 or so,” said Stiles.

“Well, if you want, you can just come over then,” Derek offered. This was a dog play-date, Stiles reminded himself. Despite it being on a Friday evening, it was not an offer for a date. 

“No hot date with a pretty girl?” Stiles really had no idea why that came out of his mouth. He certainly hadn’t planned on saying it.

Derek scowled. 

“Fine, fine!” Stiles raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll see you then.”

Wolf looked like he was about to cry when Twister pranced off.

*** 

Stiles had been a bit nervous all day on Friday, but he told himself that the best thing to do was act normal. Well, as normal as possible. So he didn’t get there at 8:30 exactly and he didn’t change from his work clothes (a graphic t-shirt, jeans and a flannel overshirt. He was a computer geek, the lack of work clothing was one of the best parts of his job.) He actually hadn’t gone into Derek’s house the other day; they had just gone straight into the backyard. But he rang the doorbell as Twister jumped up and down at his feet in excitement. She could probably smell Wolf, he guessed.

Derek answered the door, looking the same as usual, minus the leather jacket. It made sense that he didn’t wear it sitting around the house, but it still seemed strange to see him without it. The house itself looked neat and clean and sparsely but nicely decorated. Stiles thought of his own house, messy piles everywhere but the floors (Twister couldn’t really jump into furniture or tables if he didn’t help her). He wondered if Derek even made his bed every day.

Stiles unhooked Twister’s leash from her harness (which was difficult, since she didn’t seem to understand that the more she pulled, the longer it would take for her to be free) and she was caught up in a frenzy of undecided joy when she ran back and forth between Derek and Wolf. Derek actually leaned down and petted and smiled at her, and Stiles felt something warm in his chest. Ugh, not good, he thought.

“Want a beer or something?” Derek asked him. Stiles figured he should probably say no, since he was nervous enough about acting appropriately, but he liked beer and it was Friday night, so what the hell. They each took one and sat down on the couch, watching the dogs frolic. Well, Twister frolicked, Wolf looked pleased and amused at her antics.

One beer turned into two turned into a few more after that, and Stiles found that, whether it was the beer or the being in his own house, Derek seemed more comfortable and talkative than Stiles had seen him before. Stiles learned about the nephew that named Wolf and Derek’s sister, about his day at the mechanic’s shop, about his work on the house and the addition he was planning. 

He was so distracted by Derek he didn’t even notice when the dogs stopped making noise, but it wasn’t long before it filtered through his consciousness – he had pretty much trained himself to be aware of where Twister was and what she was doing at all times. So he jumped up onto his knees and leaned over behind the couch, ignoring Derek’s startlement, and saw the two dogs curled up – Twister in her usual little ball and Wolf curved around her so they were cuddling – asleep. Well, they had been asleep before Stiles jumped up, but they both raised their heads a bit as if to say, “yes, can we help you?” before putting them back down and closing their eyes.

“Oh my god. Derek, you have to see this. Could they possibly be more cute?” Stiles gasped.

“No, actually, I don’t think they could be,” Derek admitted.

Stiles took out his phone and was taking multiple pictures when Derek blurted out:

“You think I’m straight.”

Stiles sat slowly back down on the couch, heart racing and not really sure what the appropriate response was.

“Well, I’m not, okay? I may not wear rainbows all over the place or be stereotypical and covered in glitter, but I’m not.” Derek sounded annoyed and Stiles felt even more at a loss.

“Okay?” he said.

“I just thought… never mind.” Derek turned away, a blush rising up on his cheeks, and it was as if Stiles could see the ease they had developed over the past few hours melting away.

“Thought… what?” Stiles asked softly. The beer was no match for the adrenaline this conversation was producing in him, but it did give him a needed extra boost of boldness. “Thought that I might be interested?”

The flush grew brighter on Derek’s face, and he retreated even more, physically and mentally.

“I don’t know. Whatever. Look, maybe you should –“ Stiles knew the word ‘go’ was coming next, so he cut in.

“Well, you were right. I am.”

Derek turned to meet his eyes, and he didn’t actually look any less scared than he had before. Stiles raised his hand and touched Derek’s cheek – he had been wanting to feel that stubble for ages – and before he knew it, Derek’s lips were on his and he was pressed onto his back on the couch with Derek on top of him.

He knew he should slow it down – he had figured out at this point that he actually liked Derek and maybe wanted to see if there could be more than just one (or a few) nights of sex, and Derek seemed like a complicated guy, someone who it would be wise to talk with before falling into bed with. But Derek’s mouth was warm and moving against his in the most fantastic way, and Stiles could feel his muscular shoulders and back under his hands, just a thin layer of fabric away. And Stiles was only human.

So he pushed away his concerns as he pushed Derek’s shirt up his back, wanting to feel the skin against his hands. Derek sat up just long enough to throw off his shirt and leaned back over Stiles, pressing their pelvises together in the process. Stiles groaned, and then he heard an ominous yip.

Suddenly the dogs were all over them, which was really not conducive to sexy times. Derek didn’t think so either, apparently, because he got up and dragged Stiles behind him to his bedroom, where he firmly shut the door, leaving the dogs outside. He then helped Stiles struggle out of his shirts and pressed him up against the door, kissing his neck and running his hands along his sides and chest, ignoring the pathetic scratches and whimpers from the other side of the door.

Stiles pushed back, moving them towards the bed – made, he noticed – and had just managed to get a good grasp on Derek’s ass when Derek unbuckled his own belt and pushed down his pants. Stiles’ wiser side had almost been making a comeback, telling him he might regret this tomorrow, but when he saw Derek’s cock, already pretty hard, in front of him, his hand instinctively moved towards it. When he felt the contradictory softness and hardness of Derek and heard the noise Derek made in response, all thoughts of wisdom flew out of his head again.

Before he could process it, he was pantsless, too, and they were on the bed, and Derek was just as hot under his clothes as he seemed like he would be. Stiles ought to have felt self-conscious, given the contrast between their bodies, but Derek was just so into it, kissing his skin and running his hands everywhere, that it was hard to worry about it. 

“What… which… what do you want to do?” Derek asked him, whispering in his ear, speaking for the first time.

“Whatever. Anything. Whatever you want,” Stiles said into his shoulder, clutching Derek as he arched into him.

“Can I… can I fuck you?” Derek sounded uncharacteristically shy, but Stiles’ brain short-circuited.

“Yeah,” he said. Then, thinking he should do more to express his enthusiasm for the idea, he opened his mouth again, but he couldn’t think of words, so he just repeated: “yeah.”

Stiles knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help wondering how many people Derek had done this with before when he pulled lube and a condom out of his bedside table. It’s not that Stiles disapproved of sleeping with lots of people, or that he wanted to be Derek’s one and only or anything, but he did want it to be more than just sex and he had no idea to tell if this meant more than a random fuck. But at this point he felt it was too late to ask, or maybe he was just afraid of the answer.

Derek was still on top of him, and he licked and bit at Stiles’ neck as he slowly pressed a slicked finger into him, and then two, and then three. The whole time, Derek’s body moved with his fingers, sinuously pressing his pelvis into Stiles’ hip, leaving a trail of wet precome up and down his skin. 

Finally, Stiles started to beg, and Derek put on the condom and kissed him and used his hand to position his cock on Stiles’ asshole, and Stiles thought he might cry from relief as Derek entered him. It took an embarrassingly short time before Stiles was moaning, digging his fingernails into Derek’s back and coming, but Derek was hitting the exact right spot inside of him in perfect rhythm with his hand on Stiles’ dick and there was nothing Stiles could do but let go. He would have felt more embarrassed if Derek hadn’t followed shortly afterwards. 

There were a few minutes of beautiful afterglow, when they clung to each other and slowly returned their breathing to normal. And then there was the inevitable return of awkwardness. Stiles was, by nature, awkward, so he wasn’t really shocked that he had no idea what to do. He actually wasn’t really big on one-night stands or on not talking about what was going on before sex, so he didn’t know the etiquette.

“Uh, I guess I should go?” he asked. Really, he wanted Derek to tell him he could stay if he wanted. Because he did want to stay – he figured he could handle an awkward breakfast after a night of cuddling. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Derek replied, and Stiles could tell nothing from his tone. It was a few seconds before he loosened his grip on Stiles enough for him to get up. He felt pretty uncomfortable putting on his underwear and pants, still being all slick and loose, but he figured he could throw his underwear in the wash and get in the shower as soon as he got home, since he really didn’t want to hang around any longer now that it was decided he was leaving. He grabbed his shirt and moved to open the door, but Derek, still naked, grabbed his arm and pulled him to lean close enough over the bed for Derek to reach without getting up. Derek kissed him again, slowly and gently, but it didn’t feel anything like a chaste peck or a quick goodbye. When Derek released him, Stiles leaned back for one last, fast kiss before going to the door and opening it.

The two dogs were sitting, staring at the door. He had never seen such judgment in Twister’s eyes before. Wolf wasn’t much better, but he looked more long-suffering than annoyed. Before Stiles could move, Twister was on the bed – and she had never jumped that high before, he had a little step of doggie stairs leading up to his bed that he had to bribe her with treats to use – and trying to pounce on Derek’s nose. Wolf moved more deliberately to lie down next to Derek as Derek caught Twister and handed her over to Stiles. 

“Um, sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, and Stiles couldn’t tell if he sounded sad or bored or half-asleep.

Out in the living room, he got his shirt on and Twister back on her leash, and the front door latched behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last one was long, this one is very short. But hey, two in one day, not too bad.

It was only the next morning, when Stiles went to send Derek a non-threatening text reminding him of his existence and that Stiles liked him, that he realized he didn’t even fucking have the guy’s phone number. And the dog park was still closed. He thought it was just too creepy to show up at his door, so Stiles sighed, fell back into bed and put his arm over his eyes.

When the dog park reopened a few days later, Stiles saw Derek there at their usual time. But Derek barely said anything to him and left pretty soon after Stiles arrived, despite the sad goodbyes Wolf and Twister were communicating at each other with their eyes.

That night, Stiles called Lydia. After he told her the whole story, she stayed silent for a long moment.

“So you’re telling me that this super hot guy always gets hit on by people just because of how he looks.”

“Uh, yes,” Stiles replied, not really sure where she was going with all of this. He took his mouth away from the phone long enough to yell at Twist, who was playing her bark-until-Stiles-pays-attention-to-her-then-run-away game. 

“And you guys hung out, even when he knew you thought there was no way he’d sleep with you,” Lydia continued.

“Yes…”

“And then you guys slept together, and immediately after you said you should go.”

“Okay, it sounds worse when you say it that way.”

“Stiles, you are a moron. This guy is clearly emotionally stunted – didn’t you say he doesn’t talk to people?”

“Well, yes, but –“

“Don’t make excuses, just tell him you like him. My god, you lesser mortals are so tiring.”

“Ha, ha,” said Stiles sarcastically, but secretly he was a little awed and terrified by her ability to read people. “You don’t think it’s just that he didn’t like me or is bored with me or something?”

“Hm, well it could be that. You know how you could find out?”

“How?”

“By asking him!” she yelled, and then hung up the phone.

***

The next day, Stiles was not deterred by Derek’s surliness – he took it as a good sign that Derek showed up at all. Thankfully, there weren’t too many other folks around and Derek was still scary enough that they had a bit of privacy.

“So, we shouldn’t have done that last week,” Stiles started with. Derek looked even more stiff than before. “Shit, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant… do you want to hang out this week or something?”

Derek looked at him suspiciously. “Hang out?” he asked.

“Yeah, you know, socialize? We can use the dogs as an excuse again, if you want. We could, uh…” he tried desperately to think of things they could do that would leave no opportunity open for Stiles to jump him. “Go for a walk in a populated area?”

“Seriously? Do you think I’m going to attack you or something? It didn’t seem like you were unwilling last time.”

Stiles gaped as a monumental realization hit him. 

“Holy shit, I’m as bad at this as you are,” Stiles gasped out, horrified. Derek moved to leave, but Stiles caught his arm and tried as best as he could to follow Lydia’s advice.

“Okay, so I like you.” He looked around, hoping that no one crazy was listening in to his heartfelt confession. “I want to get to know you better. And while last week was… fun in a way I probably shouldn’t expound on in a public place, I kind of feel like it didn’t really make things easier otherwise. So, can I get your number and do you want to hang out this weekend?”

Wolf was looking up at Derek as expectantly as Stiles. Derek still didn’t look quite convinced.

“A couple of my friends are coming into town for the weekend and a few of us are going to go out, want to come? Oh, shit, wait, you don’t want to talk to people, that was a bad – “

“Yes,” said Derek.

“Yes? You do realize we won’t be able to bring the dogs?” Stiles felt like he needed to confirm, since this was a pretty surprising turn of events.

“Are you going to put my number in your phone or do you just plan to memorize it?” Derek was actually almost-smiling. 

Stiles took out his phone and entered Derek’s number.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while! Family stuff, very little privacy. I expect a boost in my productivity now that I'm back home, for a few days at least. 
> 
> Anyway, here it is!

That Friday, Stiles went to pick up Lydia and Erica from the airport. They barely waited for him to start setting up the spare room bed and a couch to grill him about Derek. Stiles hadn’t quite thought through how bad an idea it had been to invite Derek to meet them until then.

“You don’t have to ask me questions, you’ll meet him yourself later tonight,” he told them.

The evil grins the two girls sported were terrifying.

By the time they drove out to the bar where they were meeting up with Scott and Alison, Stiles’ childhood friend and his wife, Stiles was contemplating texting Derek to tell him not to come, but Lydia stole his phone before he could.

“No dick pics? Disappointing,” she said. “My god, all you have on here are pictures of Twister. And a few of her with another dog.”

“Oh! That’s Wolf. They’re so cute together. Last week they were all curled up –“ Stiles cut off when he noticed Lydia’s look of disgust. “You guys are worse over babies.”

“Yes, because they’re actually human beings,” pointed out Erica, who already had two kids with her partner, Boyd, and would tell anyone who was willing to listen that she wanted more. 

“Twist never mouths off and isn’t going to grow up and leave me. Besides, if she’s driving me nuts I can just put her in a cage and leave the house. I hear that’s frowned upon when dealing with children. I’ll take dogs any day, thanks.”

***

They set themselves up at a table near the front of the bar, so Stiles was actually able to see Derek arrive. On a motorcycle. On a freaking motorcycle. He was too busy gaping and trying to control his completely inappropriate arousal to say anything when Derek got to the table.

Which was super awkward, because someone needed to make the introductions. Derek stood there, looking at Stiles expectantly. Lydia just sat back and enjoyed the show, so Scott took pity on Stiles and, after confirming that he was indeed Derek, introduced him around.

Derek was just getting settled in a seat across from Stiles when Stiles finally regained the ability to speak. 

“Am I allowed to say how ridiculously hot you are on a motorcycle?”

Derek’s jaw dropped and he started to look embarrassed, but when he looked around and saw only resigned amusement on the faces of Stiles’ friends, he just told Stiles: 

“You are so, so weird.”

“So you guys haven’t been a thing for long,” Erica surmised. “Otherwise you wouldn’t look so surprised.”

“Oh come on, don’t even try to tell me that all of you aren’t also getting boners. Or whatever goes on with you ladies,” Stiles replied.

Scott looked horrified while Alison blushed and Lydia and Erica didn’t look ashamed at all.

“Stiles,” Derek growled across table.

“Oooh, and growly, too. That must be nice in bed,” Erica commented.

Derek gave up looking angry and started looking traumatised. “If you answer that, Stiles, I swear to god I will never speak to you again.”

“So Stiles could answer, hm? You’ve already slept together, then.” Lydia concluded.

“Oh my god, stop!” said Scott, who really might have been the nicest of all of them, when it came down to it. Derek was clearly never going to open his mouth again if this interrogation continued, and Stiles was clearly too afraid of Erica and Lydia to put a stop to it himself.

Allison, who was a perfect partner for Scott and Stiles loved her dearly, asked Erica about her kids, even though Stiles knew the topic was somewhat painful for her, since she and Scott had been trying to conceive lately, without much luck. But Erica was guaranteed to jump on the opportunity to talk about them, so Derek and Stiles were given a break.

Stiles tried to mouth an apology at Derek, but he still looked a little shell-shocked and distracted, and he didn’t notice. When he thought Lydia and Erica were sufficiently distracted, Stiles leaned across to talk to Derek quietly.

“I’ve never seen the motorcycle before.”

“You’ve only ever seen me at the dog park or at home. It’s not like I have a side-car for Wolf to ride in.” The mental picture that Stiles immediately produced of Wolf in goggles, a helmet and a jaunty scarf whipping in the breeze made him laugh. Erica looked over at Stiles suspiciously, but he leaned back and tried to look innocent. Eventually, Scott, Derek and Erica got into a heated discussion about the relative merits of different professional sports and the evening got nicer from there. 

At eleven thirty, Derek rose from the table and explained that he needed to work the next day. Stiles offered to walk him out and he shot glares at his friends in response to their leers. 

Outside the bar, it was chilly, but it didn’t look like Derek noticed.

“Thanks for coming tonight. I know they’re kind of horrible at first, but I’m glad you met my friends,” Stiles told him.

“It was… okay, I can’t honestly say nice, but Allison and Scott are the ones who actually live around here, right? I liked them.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about Lydia or Erica coming to interrogate you at all hours of the night. Well, probably not.” He continued, pretending not to see the fear lurking in Derek’s eyes. “We’re going to take an overnight trip to Philly tomorrow, so I guess I won’t see you for a couple of days. But I’ll be at the park on Monday – maybe we can hang out afterwards?”

“Yeah, that would be good.” Derek hesitated. “What are you doing with Twister?”

“Scott and Allison said they’d come by a few times to let her out and feed her. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking… maybe I could take her while you’re gone.”

Stiles gaped.

“But you hate her!”

“I told you I don’t hate her. Besides, I think Wolf would like it.”

“She’d definitely love it. Are you sure you don’t mind? She can be a handful.”

“I’m sure. It’s only two days.”

Stiles looked skeptical, but said, “thanks, that’s really sweet. So, uh, I guess I’ll come by to drop her off in the morning? Is around eight okay?”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then, not caring that they were standing outside a bar, in the middle of the sidewalk, Derek leaned forward and kissed Stiles. It was quick and soft and sweet.

“Night,” he said, as he put on his helmet, got on the motorcycle, and drove off.

It took Lydia and Erica banging on the window to snap him out of his aroused stupor for long enough for Stiles to re-enter the bar and sit back down. He was met with a loud round of applause, even from Scott, the traitor.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! Real life got in the way. Also, ironically, now that all of the crazy shit is done and I'm slightly less stressed, I have less of a burning desire to write. Figures.
> 
> Anyway, I promise this is continuing. As are my disclaimers about the quality of this fic. But the comments and support have been so fantastic at a time when I really needed some positive feedback - I love you all.

When Stiles went over to Derek's Sunday night to pick up Twister, Derek answered the door in jeans and a battered tank top, which was just not fair.

"How was she? Do you still hate her?" Stiles asked, as Twister celebrated his return by jumping and wiggling so hard against his leg that she lost her balance and fell over. 

"Again, I don't hate her, and she was fine. And I followed all of your four typed pages of instructions." Derek was pretty good at the whole sarcasm thing, Stiles reflected. It was hot.

"Yes, well, I don't leave her with other people very often. It's nerve-wracking!" Stiles tried to defend himself, but really, he knew he was being ridiculous. As long as he wasn't around, she was a perfect angel. Even his father was convinced she was the most perfect being on the planet.

Derek handed over the bag of stuff Stiles had given him along with Twister - the bag was three times her weight and at least six times her volume. When Stiles started to put the leash on her, Wolf started looking expectantly at him as if he was getting walked, too.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" Stiles asked. He wasn't really sure if he was supposed to try to kiss Derek goodbye, since it's not like they were on a date or anything, and it somehow seemed super awkward to kiss him across the threshold when he barely even went in to the house.

"Yeah," Derek said. "See you then."

Twister might have been distracted by her joy at seeing Stiles again, but he could hear a mournful whimper from inside the house as he walked back to his car.

When Stiles saw Derek at the park the next day, he was already sitting on the bench rather than creepily haunting his usual corner. He looked ragged. Twister got to him before Stiles could and Derek actually brightened a bit when he ruffled her fur.

"You look like you had a bad day," Stiles said.

"Gee, thanks." Derek raised his eyebrow. Such an expressive eyebrow.

"Don't worry, even when you look like shit all the dog park girls want to pounce." Stiles was keeping his eye on the blonde with the hound mix. She had started inching towards them - clearly Derek talking to Stiles had made him seem more approachable than usual. Derek turned to where Stiles was looking and scowled at the woman, who retreated. Really, Stiles should not feel so pleased at this.

"Wolf kept me up all night. He just wouldn't settle down - he hasn't been that bad since he was a puppy."

Stiles looked over at Wolf. He definitely looked better than Derek did. In fact, he looked nothing less than ecstatic to see Twister. They were sniffing vigorously and Wolf was occasionally chewing on Twist's ears.

"Huh. Twist was actually pretty horrible last night, too - I had to move her crate to the spare room so I could get some sleep."

They stared at each other and it was as if Derek could tell what Stiles was thinking, because he started to frown.

"I'm not saying it!" Stiles raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "Totally coincidence. They'll both be fine tonight."

And then, suddenly, disaster struck.

"Did you guys hear the news last night? They proved Obamacare is really a plot to kill old people, just like they do in Holland."

Stiles had compromised Derek's defenses enough that before they knew what was happening, both crazy conspiracy guy and beagle guy were standing next to the bench trying to engage them in conversation. Stiles wasn't sure whether he hated the blonde with the hound mix more or less after she joined in too - she definitely took some of the pressure off the conversation, but she was also inching closer to Derek.

Meanwhile, Derek was scowling at Stiles, his eyebrows accusing him of getting him in this mess in the first place.

"Well!" Stiles stood up and declared loudly, "we were just leaving."

Derek didn't hesitate in taking the opportunity to go leash Wolf, leaving Stiles to deal with the suspicious stares his announcement had occasioned. And yeah, he kind of felt like it was a public declaration of togetherness when he hadn't really meant for it to be, but if it made blondie back off and conspiracy nut be too embarrassed to go off on homophobic rants, he was okay with it.

When they left the park and walked back towards their cars, Stiles couldn't help but laugh and he saw Derek couldn't quite suppress an upwards tilt to his lips either. 

"So, uh, are you still up for doing something tonight?" Stiles asked.

"Sure. Have any ideas?"

"Well, there's that one cafe in town that allows dogs. I thought maybe we could go grab some dinner?"

At dinner, Derek was less talkative than he had been in his own house, but he seemed happy enough with his part in the conversation. Of course they were constantly interrupted by people who wanted to pet the dogs - Twist especially. One time a very pretty woman with freckles dotted across her cheeks tried to turn her interest in Twister into a flirtatious conversation with Stiles, and Stiles might have been annoyed he didn't get her number except for the smug feeling he got when Derek glared at her until she went away.

It was a nice night. Stiles had parked closer to the cafe than Derek did, so when they walked by his car, they said goodbye. He figured he was definitely allowed this time, so he moved in for a kiss. Unfortunately, standing on a street corner with two leashed dogs (as always, one calm and one frantic) didn't really allow for much romance. 

Their lips touched only briefly, but the tone of Derek's voice when he said goodnight guaranteed what Stiles was going straight home to do.

This taking it slow thing sucked.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, not beta read and not really edited, although I'm sure I'll read it over tomorrow and correct what errors and typos I see.

That night was not, in fact, better. Usually Stiles let Twister sleep on his bed, but Twister was so worked up that not only did Stiles have to put her in her crate and then put her crate in another room, but her noises sounded so distressed that he ended up letting her out every hour or so. For all of her faults, usually when she was in her crate she was totally fine - only when she was sick did she put up a fuss. So he felt too bad to just leave her in there, but he ended up getting pretty much no sleep at all.

Even worse, he couldn't jack off. It felt just wrong to do it while Twister was awake and trying to get his attention. Not even picturing Derek riding off on his motorcycle was enough to get him over the weirdness of it.

The next day dragged like crazy. He was so tired that, as he left work, he texted Derek to let him know he was skipping the dog park for the day, as sad as Stiles was to give up his chance to see him. Derek replied that he wasn't going to go either - that Wolf had been just as bad and he was also going to try to get to bed early.

As soon as Stiles got into bed, it all started again - the pathetic whines and whimpers and, worst of all, those little yips of frantic panic that she only made when something was actually wrong. But she didn't want water or food and she clearly didn't need to pee when he let her out - she would just go straight up to the fence and bark. Which was totally endearing him to his neighbors. When his alarm went off the next morning, a Friday, he wanted to cry - he had finally fallen asleep about an hour before it went off. He contemplated calling in sick to work, but he kind of wanted to get away from Twist and her insanity anyway, and they had a big deadline coming up soon. When he texted Derek to say he was skipping the park again (and really, he doubted the wisdom of this decision, since probably keeping her inside wasn't a good way to get her to calm down) he received a slightly incoherent reply telling him not to worry about it. 

Stiles hadn't been serious when he implied it was their separation that was making Wolf and Twister crazy, but at this point he was willing to believe anything.

When he went home at lunch and at four to deal with Twister, she seemed normal - of course, she got to nap all day long, lucky bitch. He came home for good at nine, having gotten enough done on the project to feel okay about not going in all weekend, and fell into bed - of course, in vain. At that point, he was tired enough that he thought he might start hallucinating and he was worried he was going to send Derek alarming and inappropriate text messages.

But it was Derek who cracked, around 1 am.

 _Please just come over before I actually kill him_ , Derek texted.

It was probably dangerous for him to drive, but Stiles just grabbed Twister and went straight to the car, not bothering with a leash and not caring at all that he was in pajama pants and a ratty t-shirt and slippers.

He didn't even knock on Derek's door before it was opening and Twister squirmed out of his arms to greet Wolf. Their howls of joy hurt his head, but he left them to it as Derek grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bed.

Stiles had thought so much about what they had done in that bed, what he wanted to do there in the future. But he looked at the stubble that was halfway to a beard and the bags under Derek's eyes - mirrored on his own face, he knew - and he was perfectly content to press against Derek's feet with his own and put a hand on his hip and pass into unconsciousness. 

***

It had been a long time since Stiles slept in a bed with someone without actually sleeping with them first. He wasn't sure quite what the etiquette was here - probably he was supposed to get up at a decent hour and leave Derek to his life, but the dogs were being quiet and he really couldn't give a fuck about anything but sleep. 

It was at least noon before he finally admitted he was really awake. He and Derek were no longer touching - at some point in the night they had each rolled onto different sides of the bed, Stiles taking the entirety of the blankets with him. Oops.

He got up, went to the bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, but then he wasn't sure quite what to do. He didn't want to wander around Derek's house by himself and he sure as hell didn't want to wake the dogs, who were still curled up peacefully on the couch. Bastards. So he took the path of least resistance and just got back into the bed. There were worse places to be.

His movement had clearly woken Derek, but they were both content to pretend they were sleeping for a while longer, enjoying the drowsiness that comes after actually having slept following a period of deprivation. Eventually, Stiles broke the silence.

"Sorry I stole all the covers. Want some?"

Derek snorted. "I always kick them off anyway, don't worry." But he took the offered corner of blanket and moved closer to Stiles, still facing away from him, so that they were almost spooning.

"Man, what the fuck is up with our dogs?" Stiles asked. "It can't actually be that they missed each other, right? Dogs just don't work like that."

"I don't know. I mean, Twister is still a puppy, but Wolf is three years old - he's never acted like this before."

"I can't believe putting them together actually worked. They've been quiet for, like, twelve hours - Twister is never quiet for twelve hours. In fact, you'll probably find a puddle somewhere in your house at an inconvenient time."

"If you didn't think it would work, why did you come over?" Derek craned his neck to see Stiles' face as he responded.

"I was desperate?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles flushed. "Okay, I was desperate and I wanted to see you anyway."

Derek turned over so that he was facing Stiles and, with a smirk, moved closer so that his breath was making tingly feelings spring up on Stiles' neck.

"So, uh, what should we do?" Stiles tried to sound collected, but was pretty sure he failed.

"Oh, I could think of a few things," said Derek, as he moved the rest of his body so it was flush with Stiles', pressing the evidence of his growing interest against Stiles' leg.

"I meant about the dogs!" Stiles squeaked out. Derek pulled his head back and gave him a look that just screamed 'Really? REALLY?'

"But... we can talk about that later," Stiles conceded, and Derek moved his mouth back to Stiles' neck, making Stiles twitch and shiver.

"Derek, wait, aren't we supposed to be taking this slow?" Stiles was pretty sure he was going to kick himself later, but he remembered the last time when he hadn't voiced his concerns.

"Not on my account," Derek told him, the words causing his lips to move against Stiles' skin. "I'm not a fan of one-night stands, but it seems like we're kind of stuck with each other at the moment." 

"Gee, thanks," Stiles grumped, but it was hard to sound too annoyed when Derek's hand was starting to work up under his shirt, the fingers lightly tracing his spine. Stiles was pretty sure Derek could tell he was on board with what he was doing - Derek was wearing only boxers and Stiles' pajama pants weren't hiding much. But they were going slow - slow movements against each other, slow licks on each other's necks - and it was awesome. Unhurried and hot. The beginning of perfect Saturday morning sex.

Until.

Until Twister (it had to have been Twister, although Wolf was probably aiding and abetting) started scratching against the bedroom door. At first they tried to ignore it, but the dogs just added noises to the chorus - yips and banging against the door and eventually Twist's pathetic strident barking.

Stiles snapped. He flew out of bed and opened the door.

"Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you possessed by a demon? First you don't let me sleep for three days - THREE DAYS - and now you're cockblocking me? I couldn't get off while you were whining and now Derek is right here and you decide now is a good time to start acting like a whiny bitch again? Sometimes I just can't stand you, you fucking needy, interfering, infuriating -"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and cut off his rant prematurely. Derek looked concerned. Twister had her usual expression that followed one of Stiles' breakdowns - mild puzzlement and impatience for him to get done with whatever he was yelling and tend to her needs. Really, Stiles would feel worse about his near-constant verbal abuse of his dog, but it clearly rolled right off her back.

He was still panting - both from the fooling around and from working himself up into a good fury. 

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," said Derek, using an extremely soothing tone of voice, the kind you use with young children and lunatics. "I'm going to let the dogs out for a bit and feed them. You're going to get back into bed and take some deep breaths." He pushed Stiles back towards the bed, until he fell over onto it.

"Don't move." Derek pressed a quick kiss to his lips and left, taking the dogs with him.

Shit, Stiles thought. Now I'm going to be in love with him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Directionless stories are hard to finish, apparently. Thanks to all of you for reading!

They spent most of Saturday in bed. After Derek had pacified the dogs, they finally managed to have their lazy weekend fooling around session and drifted off into a nap. They eventually moved to the couch where they stayed up late watching the Lord of the Rings movies, with Wolf sleeping on the floor, leaning on Derek's legs, and Twister in Stiles' lap. It was terrifyingly domestic, really.

"So, uh, I should go," Stiles said at one in the morning, standing up. Derek eyed the dogs dubiously. 

"Do you think they're going to let us sleep?"

"I mean, we have to figure something out. As much as I like you, it's not like we can move in together after kind of seeing each other for a couple of weeks."

"You like me?" Derek teased.

"I thought that was kind of obvious at this point," Stiles said, simultaneously blushing and rolling his eyes. Derek took him by the arm and pulled him back down onto the couch, and leaned over for a quick kiss. 

"But..." Derek hesitated.

"But what?"

"Is this a thing?"

"A thing?"

"You know, like, an exclusive boyfriends thing." Insecurity didn't look natural on Derek's face, Stiles thought. 

"Well, I'm pretty sure Twister would pee on anyone else I brought home."

"Very funny," Derek scowled. 

"Sorry. Yeah, that sounds good," Stiles said as he moved in to kiss Derek again.

****

Twister did let him sleep that night, amazingly. Derek and Stiles discovered that, as long as they saw each other for at least a bit every day, or for the whole night every second day, they were manageable. They also discovered that Wolf liked to sleep on the bottom corner of the bed and Twist always started curled into Stiles' side, but as Stiles was a restless sleeper she always ended up pressed against Wolf by morning. Fitting all four of them into a queen-sized bed was doable but tight, and Stiles found himself contemplating getting a king.  
****

Things were great. Almost perfect, actually. Twister was burning off so much energy playing with Wolf that she was starting to act almost like a normal dog rather than a tiny canine cocaine addict. Sometimes Derek would come over still covered in smudges of motor oil and he would have to be forceful about showering before Stiles jumped him (although he often only made it into the shower before giving up when Stiles joined him). On weeks before big release dates Stiles would leave Twister at Derek's and go over only long enough to shower, sleep for few hours and kiss Derek goodbye. 

They still went to the dog park most days. Now that Wolf and Twister were spending so much time together, they actually played with other dogs when they were there, although Wolf always hovered protectively around Twist when new dogs tried to sniff her or big dogs tried to play with her. So, really, almost perfect.

Except.

Stiles had never been a jealous kind of guy. As long as he was sure his partner was interested in him and no one else, he was pretty easy going. But it was different with Derek for some reason - maybe he just liked him more than he had liked his exes, who knows. All of a sudden he was envious of all the dogs casually marking their territory (although he would prefer a different method - he was pretty sure neither he nor Derek were into watersports.) 

Now that Derek had actually been seen talking to someone, he had apparently lost the terrifying aura that kept the women away from him. His affection for Twister didn't help - they took one look at the muscular, stubbly, bad-boy seeming guy with a little puppy and they melted. Well, okay, so did Stiles. But he was allowed.

The problem was that everyone at the dog park seemed to assume he and Derek were just best buds or something, no matter how many times he dropped "that movie we saw last week" or "that restaurant we went to last night" into the conversation. He brought it up to Derek once, but Derek got all uncomfortable, the way he always got when his intense physical attractiveness was pointed out to him. 

So Stiles was stuck glaring daggers at an assortment of women, many of whom he used to quite like, pre-Derek. The worst were the woman with the corgi and the one with the two schnauzers. Stupid schnauzers. 

It all came to a head when schnauzer lady actually asked Derek out in front of Stiles, despite the negative unchanging nature of Derek's interactions with her.

"Would you like to meet up for a drink tonight?" she asked him. 

Derek flushed red - anger, embarrassment? - and looked at Stiles, who took that as permission to speak.

"Sorry, we have plans tonight," he snapped. Then he felt a little pity for her - he really couldn't blame her for hitting on Derek. He actually sort of judged anyone who didn't want to hit on him. So he tried to soften the blow by giving her some room to save face. "We could meet up with you sometime this weekend, though, if you wanted."

But she kept her eyes on Derek. "Uh, I meant, like, a date? You and me, nobody else?" Derek clearly still had no idea how to deal with this and Stiles was stunned enough for a second that she had time to shoot a look over at him apologetically, as if she was sorry to be excluding him from what were clearly plans dear to him and not so dear to Derek.

"I, uh, know what you meant." Derek said, haltingly, as if this was actually an acceptable response to the situation. But she kept looking at him and Stiles' eyes kept darting back and forth between the two of them. The conversation had gathered quite an audience at this point, in fact. Because dog park people are a bunch of gossips.

Finally, Stiles could take it no more.

"Sorry if I wasn't clear. Our plans for tonight include hot monkey sex, seeing as he's my boyfriend and all."

She gaped. The crowd gaped. Stiles was pretty sure he even heard a gasp from somewhere over the hiss of Derek's shocked whisper of his name. 

"Yeah, going to have to pass. For what should by now be obvious reasons," Derek finally broke the silence. 

"Um, yeah, no, that's... okay!" she said, as she hurried off towards her dogs, chiding them for obviously fabricated bad behaviour that needed to be dealt with immediately.

As the normal patterns of the dog park resumed, Derek turned to Stiles.

"Feeling better now that you've gotten that off your chest?"

"Much," said Stiles, smiling. Derek just rolled his eyes, but Stiles could tell he was holding back a grin.

Funnily enough, the guy who always made homophobic rants, the owner of a lab mix who was always too aggressive and who he paid no attention to when they were at the park, never seemed to be there at the same time as them again. Now things were really perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see [me on tumblr](http://keriarentikai.tumblr.com/) if you - for some godforsaken reason - want to see my TW reblogs and notices of fic updates.


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